


Between Skin and Skin

by Portrait_of_a_Fool



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Explicit Language, M/M, Prostitution, Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-13
Updated: 2011-06-13
Packaged: 2017-10-20 09:04:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/211075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Portrait_of_a_Fool/pseuds/Portrait_of_a_Fool
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a slight misunderstanding to begin with, but that's the way a lot of things start; it's what they become that's the interesting part.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Between Skin and Skin

The night air is warm and clammy on Steve’s skin, the faint sheen of moisture covering him like a slick sheet is making him itch faintly. He scratches his arm, feels the sweat roll under his fingertips and then leans back against the white cinderblock wall, looking casual as he scans the people sliding around in the pools of shadow. A car pulls up to the corner and a young man slinks from the shadows to lean in the passenger window. The cheeks of his ass hang out like two white half moons from the short-short legs of his tight cut-offs. He’s got a little bruise on the left one; pinching, overeager fingers, Steve figures. He looks away, letting the young man conduct his business with a guise of privacy.

He appears so casual standing there against the wall; fresh meat in his ripped jeans and black wife beater, sweat glistening on his skin and kohl ringing his eyes with thick, smudged lines of black. The sounds of the seedy little street are a muted roar in Steve’s ears, the rent boys calling out flirtatiously, the bored strippers on their smoke breaks shooting the shit with men short skirts and high heels. The honk of a horn. A junkie arguing with their dealer—“Come on, Rico, I’ll pay up in full tomorrow. Just hook me up man, c’mon.” It’s all background noise to Steve. He’s paying more attention to the trip-hammer beat of his heart.

A little oily looking man in smeary spectacles slips into Steve’s line of sight and he opens his eyes more, looking down at him. The little man licks his lips and then says, “How much for a suck job?”

Just like that, like this everyday conversation like talking about the weather. He’s obviously done this before, but Steve hasn’t and his knee-jerk reaction is to tell the guy to fuck off, but he stops himself in time.

“Not interested,” Steve says instead and the little man blinks at him.

“What, you think you’re too good to take my fucking money?” he asks with surprising anger.

“Yep,” Steve says.

“I’ve got thirty bucks says you’re not,” the would-be john sneers at Steve. “Whore’s gotta eat, too, right?”

His face is twisting into something ugly the longer he stands there and Steve understands the kind of guy this is. He’s the kind that buys sex because it makes him feel powerful. He bets he’s rough, fucking mouths like they’re not attached to people; just holes for him to shove his cock. He’s revolting, more like filth than any of the whores working the block and Steve wonders again why he’s doing this at all. 

The word _whore_ sends a little shiver through Steve, hot and cold at once and he remembers again. He straightens all the way up and glares at the man because for him he’s not for sale. “Walk away now and I’ll forget about this,” Steve says, keeping his voice low and steady.

The little man snorts, but he must see something in Steve’s eyes that look like they’re sunk in shadows with the bad light and dark eyeliner. “Whatever,” he says. He’s all false bravado now as he backs away half a step. “You’ll sell eventually, pretty boy,” he calls as he walks away, blending into the mangy crowd to find a more cooperative piece of meat.

Steve leans back against the wall and closes his eyes halfway, looking casual and still keeping an eye on his surroundings. The heavy night air crawls down his back and over his shoulders and he rolls them like he’s trying to shrug the summer heat off his moist skin.

The little twig-man isn’t the first one to stop and ask for Steve’s body tonight and he’s only been out a couple of hours, but they’ve all been turned away. Steve’s not selling anything, not his ass or his mouth or even his company because some of the tricks are just lonely guys who have to buy their conversations. Sad, but true and also not Steve’s problem.

Steve’s got only one customer and he’s waiting on him. _That_ is all he’s interested in.

~*~*~*~*~*~

It started as a slight misunderstanding that turned into a joke; just some little something to cheer Danny up and lighten the mood. They’d been at Rio’s, a local bar that Danny had found and because he liked the music they played there, he went back to when he wanted a drink in public.

Danny had been bellied up to the bar, cheek propped in one hand and little flushed, a little glassy-eyed from the Long Boards with Jack back he’d been swigging down since they’d taken their seats. He wasn’t drunk, but he was toeing the line on the side of “damn close to it” when Steve had gone to the bathroom, not exactly the picture of sobriety himself, but doing better than Danny because one of them needed to be able to drive or else they’d be sleeping in the Camaro in Rio’s parking lot.

When he’d slid back onto the barstool, quirked a lopsided grin at Danny and said, “Looking for some company?” was the moment _it_ started.

Danny had peered at him over the rim of his shot glass and coughed out a soft laugh. “I don’t think I could afford you,” he said and then downed his shot of Jack like it was water.

Maybe it was the booze that had had Steve pausing, trying to figure out what Danny meant, he still doesn’t know. When it had dawned on him what Danny meant, maybe it also was the booze that had him saying, “You think? Name your price and let’s see.” He’d went with it because, _Why not?_

Danny had been smirk-smiling for the first time all night. “No way, I couldn’t afford you even if you were for sale,” Danny had said and shook his head, laughing it off like the stupid little game it was.

“Try me,” Steve had said, strangely curious, oddly intrigued… and weirdly aroused by the idea. He hadn’t thought about what that could mean then. They were both half lit—well, Danny was more like three quarters—and it was a _just a joke_.

Danny had looked over at him and cocked his head, eyes narrowing to blue slits as he studied Steve. “You’re serious?”

Steve had just shrugged and picked up his own beer for a swallow because his mouth suddenly felt dry.

“Alright then,” Danny had said and straightened up on his stool. “You’re too good looking for street work, really, but let’s just _say_ you were… Hmm…”

As Danny thought, Steve had finished his beer and waved for the bartender to bring him another one. Danny’s gaze had been _scrutinizing_ , looking him over like he was a piece of meat. Steve had almost squirmed under the weight of his gaze, his heartbeat a thick thump-thudding knot in the back of his throat.

“Be like a thoroughbred in with a bunch of… of… mangy little ponies,” Danny had finally said after more consideration. He waved his hand in a vague circular motion. Being compared to livestock was almost _flattering_ , but only from Danny and Steve didn’t want to think about that either. No, not at all, did he want to think about that. “You could take maybe a hundred or two hundred bucks a trick, easy—if the johns had that kind of cash. But that’s street and you wouldn’t do much better than that, no matter how pretty you are.”

“Pretty?” Steve had said, grabbing onto the one thing he could sort at the moment. His head was swimming with the idea, but he didn’t want to be some street walking whore; he really did not. But the _idea_ of _Danny_ buying him was something his mind—his imagination—had fastened onto with a kind of greedy desire.

“Mhmm,” Danny said with a nod as he’d reached out to drag his thumb over Steve’s bottom lip. It had been wet with condensation from his beer bottle and Steve had licked the moisture away. “Fuckin’ _pretty_.”

The way he had been talking had told Steve that Danny had definitely crossed the line into drunk territory. But he hadn’t been paying much attention to that, he was stuck on what Danny had _said_ , not the words he’d used to say it with. Steve had just stared, mouth open a little because he hadn’t known how to respond to that.

Danny had raised an eyebrow at him and pointed. “Just bein’ honest here; you’re the one that asked.”

Steve had looked away and cleared his throat. Then he’d muttered, “Shit,” under his breath because damned if he wasn’t turned on by the thought of it.

They’d lapsed into silence, elbows bumping together on occasion as they both started propping on the bar more and more with every shot. Then after a good ten or fifteen minutes, Danny had said, “I’ll give you fifty bucks to suck me in the alley. Think you can do that, sweetness?”

Steve should’ve laughed, he should’ve given Danny shit for calling him “sweetness”. He should’ve jostled him, made it into some big joke, but there’d been a glint in Danny’s eyes, making them electric spark bright and he’d _known_. There’d also been a lump in Steve’s belly that had been all _want_ , which is why he’d said, “Yeah… Yeah, I can do that.”

Danny had thrown down a twenty to cover his last couple of rounds and then got off the barstool with surprisingly steady legs. “Then pay for your drinks and meet me outside. Don’t dawdle,” Danny had said before walking away without giving Steve a chance to reconsider.

Instead of going after Danny and trying to brush it off yet again, Steve had paid for his own last couple of rounds and followed him. Danny had been waiting, already leaning against the wall and he’d beckoned Steve over with a crooked finger.

“Make it good and maybe I’ll give you a little extra,” he’d said as he curled his fingers into Steve’s shoulders and gently pushed him to his knees.

Steve had only been able to nod as he’d gone willingly to the filthy ground. He’d made damn sure it was good, too and Danny gave him five extra, plus five more because he swallowed. Sixty bucks, just like that. Steve hadn’t kept the money though, he’d put it back in Danny’s wallet that night after he’d fallen asleep. As he’d lain awake beside Danny, Steve couldn’t stop thinking about how he’d come in his pants so hard it had almost hurt while he’d sucked Danny’s cock with concrete digging into his knees.

He didn’t know what that said about either of them and he wasn’t sure if he liked knowing that sort of thing about himself. It was just a one time thing, a lark and nothing more though. He didn’t need to think about it ever again if he didn’t want to.

Of course, the thing about telling oneself not to think about something and actually doing so is that they’re vastly different things. 

Two weeks later, Danny had bent him over the hood of the Camaro and fucked him hard and fast. When he was done, he’d thrown a hundred dollar bill down by Steve’s head, smacked his ass and told him that he was _so fucking good_. Steve had flushed with shame and mingled want, even though he’d already come all over the car when Danny was fucking him.

Then Danny had pulled him up off the car and Steve had turned around, leaning down so he could kiss Danny. Easy as that, they had been themselves again and that, too, had been a kick.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Danny comes up on his left side, slipping through the night-crawlers out on the street like he belongs there. “How much for an hour and a half?” he asks without preamble, his voice low and husky to Steve’s ears.

“One fifty,” he says. “You want anything extra then we can work that out if it comes up.”

“Fair enough,” Danny says. “You got a room? I’m not paying you for an hour and a half in the backseat of a car.”

“Yeah, I’ve got one,” Steve says.

He rented the room for the whole night before he came out; he showered and changed his clothes there. He put on the thick black eyeliner with unsure movements, worrying he was going to slip and poke his eye out because he’d never done it before. He’d smudged those black lines the way a lot of the boys who worked the corner did, like he observed them doing in the side mirrors of parked cars the few days he had spent watching them. He’d been getting ideas on how to do this right. The kohl had left smudges of black on the pads of his fingers and Steve had wiped his hands on a rough motel towel. Then he’d taken a deep breath, met his eyes in the mirror and felt himself slipping into his other self—the self that gets off on being Danny’s _whore_.

“I’ll follow you then,” Danny says and makes a gesture for Steve to go ahead of him. Steve nods and pushes away from the wall, leading Danny to the motel.

They’re taking a huge risk doing this and both of them know it. If anyone found out about their little game then they’d become a sideshow to outsiders. It could even put their jobs on the line and could cause even more damage than that if the wrong people got wind of their extracurricular activities. They talked about it after they realized this wasn’t going to go away anytime soon. They’re aware of the risks; know just how careful they have to be and have a good cover story should they need it. The really weird, definitely warped, part of it is that somehow working out all of the fine details had only made it seem hotter to them.

Now here they are and they’re really doing this. Steve can’t ignore the way his breath hitches in his chest with that knowledge and a glance over his shoulder shows Danny’s eyes pinned to him, his expression reflecting everything Steve is feeling.

Steve picks up his pace and Danny follows eagerly behind.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The motel room is dingy, walls a yellowed off-white color and the generic print that once hung over the queen sized bed has long since been pried off the wall. There are gouge marks in the flimsy plaster around the slightly lighter colored rectangle of paint to attest to whatever junkie or vagabond set themselves that task. The carpet is a nondescript brownish color, marked with darker stains that Steve can’t help but try and imagine what caused them. He’s pretty sure the stain near the threshold of the bathroom door is actually blood, but it’s so old he can’t really tell. It smells like industrial cleaner and years on top of years of stale cigarette smoke, spent fuck and sour sweat that’s so ingrained in the atmosphere of the room that the odors are bound to be steeped into the walls, the floor; _everything_.

It’s the lowest of low places that Steve could find and it’s _perfect_. The sheets on the stained mattress are clean though and that’s the one outside element of all this that they had both agreed on. The sheets had to be their own because there was no telling what could be living on a motel like this one’s bedding.

After checking out the room with his quick eyes, taking in all the details and noting the stains Steve’s already taken stock of, Danny sits down in one of the old, wicker backed chairs at the flimsy dinette table in the room. “Strip, I’m not paying you to stand there and look pretty,” he says. “I want my money’s worth and you’re wasting time.”

Steve nods and looks over to meet Danny’s eyes. Watching Steve back, he leans forward in the chair, props his elbows on his knees and makes a “hurry it up” motion with his hand. He’s all business, wearing his other self just like Steve wears his and a shiver slides down Steve’s spine.

He takes his clothes off, giving Danny a little bit of a show as he does and when he’s naked; he goes to the bed and stands beside it. “You coming, baby?” he asks. At first the word had sounded weird in Steve’s mouth, when he was first working out how his other self would talk. It’s easier now and like this it feels natural to spit out such hollow things that play-pretend as affectionate familiarity.

Danny shakes his head and lifts up in his chair enough to reach into the hip pocket of his black jeans. He pulls a tube of lube from it and tosses it to Steve. “I want to watch you get yourself ready. Go slow.”

Steve snatches the tube of lube out of the air and flicks the cap open with his thumb. The little click sounds very loud in the room and another shiver runs down Steve’s spine. “That’ll cost extra,” he says as he sits on the side of the bed and scoots back until he’s spread out horizontally on the bed, half sitting up so he can watch Danny back.

“Fair enough,” Danny says as Steve starts slicking his fingers with lube. His eyes are heavy-lidded with lust as he watches Steve slide a finger inside of himself. “Get yourself good and opened up, you hear me? I don’t want to have to work for it.”

By the time he’s got three fingers sliding smoothly in and out of his ass, Steve’s panting, slicked with sweat and trembling with the strain of keeping himself in the position he’s in. His cock is hot and hard, curved against his taut belly and smearing his skin with drops of precome. He moans and finally drops his head back, fingers working in his ass, almost sloppy with all the lube since he’s stopped to reapply it a couple of times. He wants to ask Danny to just fuck him, but he’s not getting paid to make such demands. So, he just spreads his fingers a little bit then slides them all the way back in to the knuckle and shudders with pleasure that almost aches.

“That’s enough,” Danny says when Steve’s back bows up off the bed and he moans low in the back of his throat. He stops immediately, almost whimpering when he withdraws his slippery fingers. “Now wipe your hand off,” Danny says.

Steve nods and reaches for the motel washcloth he tucked under a pillow earlier. His breath is catching in his throat, almost rasping as the cool currents from the air conditioner swirl down over his skin, leaving it prickled with goosebumps. Steve closes his eyes and listens to the sounds of Danny undressing, his light footsteps closing the short distance between the table and the bed. He only opens them when he feels the mattress dip under Danny’s weight. 

Looking up at him, Steve swallows as another stabbing shot of desire slides through him. He watches as Danny slides a hand between his spread legs and touches his slick opening, pressing just the tip of one finger inside. Steve pushes back against even that much. Danny only teases him, sliding the tip of his finger in and out until Steve’s straining against the urge to reach between his legs, grab Danny’s wrist and push his hand forward so that finger goes all the way inside. With his other hand, Danny squeezes his thigh gently then slides it all the way up to the crease where it meets his groin as he leans down, breath warm against the side of Steve’s neck.

“I’ll give you an extra hundred if you let me fuck you bareback,” Danny whispers in his ear and finally slides his finger all the way inside of Steve. “What do you say?”

Steve can barely find his voice he’s so drunk with wanting right now. They’ve long since had all of their tests and they stopped using condoms during sex ages ago. This is part of the game; part of the dirty little thrill because it’s so _wrong_ given the context of the situation.

“It’ll cost you a hundred and fifty more,” Steve manages to get out as a counter and Danny goes quiet beside him, considering.

“Deal,” he says after a moment and then takes both of his hands away. “Now move so I can lie down.”

Steve stands up on embarrassingly wobbly legs and waits for Danny to stretch out on the bed. He waits for Danny to tell him what he wants next. Danny’s hard, too and Steve can see the tell-tale little smears of precome against his belly. He wants to kneel on the bed, lean down and lick them away, but he only waits. This is not about what he wants; this about the trick getting his treats, not the other way around. It’s a little scary sometimes how fine with that Steve is.

“Ride me. I want to watch you move, so keep it slow. You go too fast, try to rush it up on me and you won’t get all your money. Got it?” Danny says. Another shiver prickles along Steve’s skin at the words. Danny never talks this way unless they’re doing this. Then it’s like he’s a director sitting in his chair; explicitly commanding Steve’s every move because Steve is his to move any way he wants to until time’s up.

Steve straddles him, grasping the base of Danny’s cock. He keeps his eyes locked with Danny’s as he slides down, taking him in one slow thrust. Danny pushes his hips up just as Steve settles down. He gasps, rocking forward to brace his hands on Danny’s chest, digging in with his fingers to hold on. In turn, Danny curls his hands around Steve’s hips so hard his fingertips are pressing bruises into his skin.

Danny bends his knees and braces his feet on the mattress to snap his hips against Steve’s ass as he moves back. Even though they’re going slow, it’s still hard and it thumps through Steve’s body, singing up his back. They find a rhythm like that and Steve listens to the sound of the bed hitting the wall with hollow _thud_ s of sound. The old mattress’s springs squeak in time to their movements.

Time is almost up and they’re both so close, like every second that ticks by on the clock running out pushes them closer to the edge. Steve’s gasping as he starts to move a little faster, unable to help himself as pleasure urges his body on.

“Ah-ah, slow down,” Danny says and smacks one of Steve’s hips to punctuate that. His voice is rough and strained with lust and he bites his lip against a moan that rumbles low in his throat.

Steve makes a sound that is almost pained as he forces himself to slow back down. More seconds tick by and he shudders with it as another moan breaks from Danny’s mouth. Steve’s breath hitches on a low sound between a moan and a cry as he rocks forward when Danny thrusts up; pleasure crackles up his back and through his lower belly, coiling up even tighter and ready to break.

“Danny,” Steve gasps out as he tightens his hold on his shoulders to keep himself steady.

“Come here, come here,” Danny says, voice low and whispery as he lets go of Steve’s hips to drag the tips of his fingers down the sides of his face, pulling him down for a kiss. Kissing is no more a part of their game than them saying the others name, but they’ve never gone this far before and for this… for this it’s an allowable break in their roles.

Steve moans into Danny’s mouth, moving faster now without Danny making him slow down. He whimpers as his orgasm creeps up on him and then _snaps_ like breaking glass. He jerks against Danny and cries out in his mouth before he manages to break the kiss so he can try and gasp in breaths as his orgasm washes over him.

“That’s it, let me hear you,” Danny says as he thrusts up again, fucking Steve through his orgasm, dragging moans and whimpers from him that he doesn’t try to bite back.

Steve sits back a little so he can look down at Danny and when their eyes meet, Steve drags his fingers through the mess of come on his belly and sucks them into his mouth. Danny’s voice catches on a harsh, “Fuck,” at the sight and Steve moans softly, running his tongue between his fingers.

Danny pushes himself up on his elbows, hooks an arm around Steve’s waist and licks at his mouth, around his fingers and between them until Steve takes his hand away and kisses him again. Danny’s arm around his waist tightens, pulling them closer and Steve moves into it as they kiss until Danny goes rigid for a moment then tears his mouth away with a shout as he comes. 

When his orgasm has finally burned down to aftershocks, Danny falls back against the mattress with a protesting groan of strained springs and laughs softly around his panting breath. He strokes a hand down the side of Steve’s neck before he drops it, too, like it’s just too heavy to hold up any longer. Steve slumps down on him for a moment, fucked out and feeling pretty content; feeling _satisfied_ in a way that isn’t only related to the sex. Then he picks his head up enough to glance at his watch and moves off Danny to lie down beside him.

“Time’s up,” he says. They’ve actually gone over by about ten minutes, but Steve won’t charge Danny for that. The game is almost over, period, but there’s still a little bit left before they have to slide back into their everyday selves.

Danny nods before he slides back into his role completely. When does slide back into it, he rolls off the bed without a backwards glance at Steve lying there covered in sweat and come. He gets dressed quickly and when he’s done, he takes out his wallet and throws a wad of bills at Steve. They land in some of the sticky mess on his stomach, but Steve just picks the bills up, counts them out and then closes his fist around them.

Danny is already by the door and Steve turns his head to look at him. Only then does he grin and Danny smiles back at him, sharing their dirty little secret and reveling in it. Danny hesitates with his hand on the doorknob for a moment before he turns around and comes back to the bed. He leans down and kisses Steve, a quick press of his lips that has Steve lifting his head so he can deepen it for a moment.

“That was… yeah,” Danny says and runs a hand through his hair.

Steve nods in agreement, but doesn’t trust himself to speak just yet. By the time he does, Danny’s already back at the door and opening it to slip out. Steve turns his head again and manages to say, “I’ll see you at home.”

Danny waves once and then he’s gone back into the night, the door clicking shut behind him. Steve opens his fist and takes a second to re-count the money he’s going to put back in Danny’s wallet later. As he thumbs through the sweaty, come-smeared bills, Steve smiles again before he gets off the bed to go clean himself up.

As he turns on the shower, listening to the old pipes splutter and grumble, he wonders when they can do this again. Soon, he thinks and he has no doubt Danny will agree with him.

**

The End

**


End file.
